


Unknown Variable

by moonix



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Character Study, College, Gen, Gift Fic, M/M, Mathematics, Neil is a smartie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-25 11:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19745053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonix/pseuds/moonix
Summary: Neil vs. math over the years.





	Unknown Variable

**Author's Note:**

> Some mentions of Neil's miserable childhood and time on the run occur.

_“Nathaniel?”_

_He’d been dreaming in class again. It happened a lot. The other children were so slow, it made Nathaniel feel like he was wading through custard. The teacher was an adult though, and Nathaniel had to be on his best behaviour for the adults._

_“Yes, ma’am?”_

_“It’s your turn,” the teacher said patiently. She was soft. Too soft to last. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”_

_Nathaniel’s mind turned blank. It wasn’t the clean, buzzing kind of blankness that sometimes happened when his father punished him. This kind of blankness felt hot and damp, like wetting the bed. He groped around for an answer, sweat prickling under the long sleeves of his shirt. It was going to be smelly later, but he could always blame it on Exy practice._

_“Well?” the teacher asked. “Maybe a firefighter, like Max? Or a dragon, like Peter?”_

_The other children laughed. Nathaniel would have liked to turn into a dragon and fly far away with his mom, but he didn’t say so. Last night his mom had read him a story from one of her magazines. It hadn’t been about dragons, but Nathaniel had still enjoyed it. There were heroes in it, heroes who were smart and ended wars with their cunning. Listening to it had made Nathaniel forget about the pain in his arm._

_“No, ma’am,” he said, twisting his fingers together in his lap. “I want to be a codebreaker.”_

-

Neil had been putting the appointment off for weeks. He hadn’t even told Andrew, who had guessed correctly that Neil had something on his mind but hadn’t asked. They’d gone for a walk in the park late last night because Neil had been too restless to sit on the roof—well, technically they’d _broken into_ the park, but Neil maintained it was a public space and they had a right to be in it. Merely the ducks by the pond had been a little grumpy about the stone-skipping contest that Neil had initiated (and won).

“Neil Josten?”

The student advisor was an elderly woman with frizzy hair and a friendly but business-like demeanour. Neil suppressed a shiver of illicit delight at the still novel experience of being called by a name that was officially his—not his father’s, not something temporary and forgettable picked at random by his mother; a name he had chosen and claimed and paid for in blood.

“That’s me,” he said, allowing himself to revel in the truth of that statement for a moment. The advisor nodded and ushered him inside her office without letting her eyes linger on his scars for too long.

“Well, Mr Josten,” she said once he was awkwardly perched on the very edge of the chair. “What can I help you with?”

Neil swallowed against the dryness in his mouth and rearranged the straps of his backpack.

“I,” he said, licking his lips. “I’m thinking about changing my major.”

-

_“What are you doing?”_

_Abram finished writing out the equation before answering his mother. Writing in the car was difficult and he had to stop and erase smudges and accidents a lot, but it was better than staring out the window or having yet another fake conversation in French._

_“Homework,” he said once he was done, carefully underlining the result._

_“You’re not going back to that school,” his mother reminded him. “There’s no need to do your homework today.”_

_“But I like it.”_

_Abram held his breath for a moment, unsure if this would earn him a retribution. His mother merely sighed and drummed her long fingers on the steering wheel in time with the rain._

_“What do you think is going to happen if you’re smarter than the other kids in your new class?” she asked him. She was calm. Calm could mean different things, but Abram didn’t think she was mad. Not yet, anyway._

_“People will notice,” Abram replied dully. “And when they notice, they start to pay attention.”_

_“And?”_

_“Attention is dangerous.”_

_“Exactly, Abram. Attention is dangerous. You have to blend in, be like the other kids. Keep your head down. Do you understand? Normal kids don’t like homework.”_

_“Yes, mom,” Abram muttered._

_His mother rolled down the window. A fine spray of raindrops hit the side of Abram’s face as he threw his exercise book out into the green blur of the ditch._

_“Do you want to play a game?” his mother asked._

_“No,” Neil said, hiding the heavy twist of his mouth in the crook of his elbow. “I’m going to sleep.”_

_She must have felt sorry then, or maybe she was just exasperated with his silence the rest of the day, because she bought him a small Sudoku puzzle book and a can of peaches at the next gas station. The puzzle book was alright, but the peaches were too sweet._

_Abram knew better than to complain, though._

-

Neil told Wymack next. It was easier to say the words by now: _I want. I have decided. I am going to._ The brief silence before Wymack said, “And?” was still excruciating, though.

“No and,” Neil said, making an effort to unlock the tension in his limbs one joint at a time. “Just thought you should know.”

“Good for you,” Wymack grunted, waving his hand at him. “Now leave me alone.”

“Coach, I’m wounded,” Neil grinned, feeling giddy.

“Don’t care,” Wymack said. “Close the door after yourself so no one else gets any ideas about using me as their own personal agony aunt.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Neil said and left the door wide open.

Andrew was already at the dorm when Neil got back, slightly out of breath from running all the way from the court and up the stairs. Neil gave his t-shirt a cursory sniff, but he was barely even sweating and Renee’s latest batch of homemade deodorant was working like a miracle cure.

“Gross,” Andrew commented when Neil leaned in hopefully for a kiss, but his hand still found its way into Neil’s shirt to pull him down. Neil had to brace himself against the back of the sofa to avoid toppling into Andrew’s lap.

“Hmm, what was that?” Neil hummed when they broke apart.

“Gross,” Andrew repeated, already looking at Neil’s mouth again.

“I’m changing my major,” Neil blurted out. He’d meant to tell Andrew later, but he’d been acting weird for days now and if they were going to do any more kissing tonight then Andrew deserved to at least know that it had nothing to do with him.

“To?”

“Math. I handed in the request this morning.”

Andrew’s thumb was tracing a constellation of freckles on Neil’s collarbone. Neil found the repetitive movement oddly soothing, even when it skirted close to the old bullet wound scar.

“What do you think?” he asked when Andrew was quiet for a long time.

“Nothing,” Andrew said. “I am not your keeper.”

“Mm, you’re _a_ keeper though. Get it? Because you’re a goalkeeper, and because you’re—”

“Shut up,” Andrew said, snagging his collar again to pull him into another kiss. “Nerd.”

Neil’s answer was lost between Andrew’s lips. They had the dorm to themselves for at least another hour before Nicky came back from class and Kevin from his study group, so they made use of the rare privacy, and Neil indulged in a nap while Andrew was in the shower.

When he woke, he felt groggy and disoriented, squinting in the bright light of the living room as he went to join the others for pizza and a movie. There was a stack of DVDs on the coffee table and Neil sleepily sank into one of the beanbag chairs while Nicky picked through the selection.

“Enigma, The Imitation Game, A Beautiful Mind, The Theory Of Everything, Hidden Figures… Did Kevin get these? It’s like snooze central in here. My pizza is spicier than these movies.”

Neil fished one of the DVDs from the pile before Nicky could topple them off the coffee table. The DVDs were all new, with the price stickers still attached. Neil had a suspicion who was responsible for them, but Andrew stayed resolutely out of the conversation, seemingly engrossed in his pizza.

“Alan Turing was gay, you know,” Neil pointed out. “You watched the last Avengers movie for a five second clip of laughable gay representation.”

“I’ll have you know I watched it for Chris Hemsworth only,” Nicky huffed.

“I vote Hidden Figures,” Aaron said, who ostensibly didn’t have keys for his old dorm anymore but somehow still managed to pop up unannounced most days. “At least that one doesn’t have any eye candy for Nicky that he can drool over.”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t shamelessly drool over Mahershala Ali,” Nicky grinned.

“I vote that one as well,” Neil said quickly to nip the oncoming argument in the bud. “Kevin, too.”

“You can’t just vote for me,” Kevin bristled.

“Sure I can,” Neil shrugged. “Would you have chosen any different?”

“…No.”

“There you go,” Neil smirked. “Hidden Figures it is.”

-

_“Neil, I wonder if I could have a word?”_

_The words trickled down Neil’s back like a drop of cold sweat. He forced himself to stay calm, but his fingers wouldn’t release their death grip on the strap of his duffel as he turned around to face his teacher._

_Mr. Bennett was a slightly shabby, middle-aged man, with worry lines around his mouth and glasses that amplified his eyes to insect-like bulbs. He leaned towards Neil in an effort to uphold the illusion of privacy and for a moment Neil could smell stale coffee on his breath before he stepped outside of range._

_“No need to look so spooked, kid,” Bennett laughed, holding up his hands. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t think there’s anything I could reprimand you for. You always hand your work in on time and never disrupt class, and your grades are good.”_

_Neil saved himself the effort of asking politely what the fuck he was doing here then when he could already be on his way to the court. Bennett merely smiled at his silence and adjusted his glasses like he was about to let Neil in on a secret._

_“I was wondering if you might be interested in tutoring some of my younger students.”_

_Neil blinked. This time, he nearly did speak his mind, but he managed to pare the outburst down to a shocked, “Why?” at the last moment._

_Bennett smiled again—how could one person smile so fucking much?—and steepled his fingers._

_“You’re always very quick on the uptake. I’d even say you’re one of my brightest students this year. I think you could do well if you applied yourself a little more, maybe even a scholarship… Tutoring might give you some extra motivation, and it would look good on a college application.”_

_The cold trickle had turned into an insistent buzzing that made Neil’s nerves sing. He wrung his hands around the straps of his bag until the fabric creaked under the pressure._

_“You’ve got the wrong impression,” he forced out. “Besides, I have Exy practice. I don’t have time for tutoring.”_

_Bennett’s mischievous expression smoothed away to something like resignation._

_“I can’t force you, of course. Take a few days to think it over, will you? I can always talk to your coach…”_

_“I have to go,” was all Neil managed. “Practice starts in ten.”_

_“Very well,” Bennett said, sounding disappointed. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”_

-

“Andrew, look at this.” Neil held up the thick brown envelope he’d fished out of the mailbox on his way in. “How mad do you think Kevin is going to be that I finished my PhD before him?”

Andrew padded over to squint at the “Dr. Neil Josten” written on the envelope and yawned.

“Why not post a picture in the group chat and find out?” he suggested innocently.

“Excellent idea.”

Neil pulled up the group chat he shared with Andrew, Aaron, Nicky and Kevin, currently named “Nicky and sons”. Kevin’s reaction came through almost immediately: _no you fucking didn’t_ with three knife emojis.

“He used emojis,” Neil informed Andrew. “That means he’s upset.”

“I called dibs on the knife emojis,” Andrew complained, peering over Neil’s shoulder. “Did you go running?”

“Sure did.”

Andrew squinted at the window, which was covered in whorls of ice. Small snowflakes drifted idly by outside, though the weather had calmed somewhat since the snowstorm last night.

“You are such an idiot,” Andrew said.

“Excuse me, I have a PhD,” Neil grinned, waving his envelope at Andrew.

“That just makes you a certified idiot,” Andrew grumbled, nosing at the collar of Neil’s hoodie. His next word was half-spoken, half-kissed into the skin of his neck, barely audible: “Nerd.”

“Certified nerd,” Neil agreed. “How much do you want to bet that I can get a second doctorate in the next five years?”


End file.
